


Give me shelter

by obscureshipyard



Series: Hydra Husbands crossovers through space and time [4]
Category: Delirium (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wheelman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crushes, De-aged everyone, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, It's both!, Light Angst, M/M, Mr. Walker is still a bastard, Mrs. Walker is still a mess, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Porn with a lot of Plot, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29769357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureshipyard/pseuds/obscureshipyard
Summary: 'Keep you head down and do what you have to. Don't make waves. Don't get to close.' It was the policy Anthony always lived by--until he met Alex Walker. They form a friendship that becomes both their greatest strength and deepest weakness. That friendship blossoms to so much more forcing Anthony to choose between letting go or risking everything by holding on.
Relationships: Alex Walker/Anthony, Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Hydra Husbands crossovers through space and time [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101521
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TemptedForTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemptedForTea/gifts).



> Whoo! Never wrote a long fic like this before! Hope you enjoy it and all it's obscurity :D
> 
> Much thanks to TemptedForTea for finishing the marathon and helping me edit this bad boy! You're a treasure.
> 
> And mittagsfrau for encouraging me to not give up on this one.

Anthony learned a lot about the Walker family while being their driver. It was supposed to be a short-term gig. He had heat on him from a bank job gone wrong, so his bosses in the West End gang sent him away to lay low. He was part of some convoluted deal and would be acting as a “personal chauffeur” to some big wig lawyer upstate.

Apparently the guy didn’t mind having a known gang member so near his wife and children. Anthony was told not to ask questions and keep his mouth shut. The lawyer was absolutely bloodthirsty in court and got the gang out of any sticky situation they needed. No one wanted to upset him and risk seeing what would happen if he got upset.

A few weeks turned into a few months, then longer. Anthony didn’t mind the work. He was only in his twenties and had no family to look out for besides himself. Plus, he got to drive and care for the high-end vehicles owned by the family. Their three BMWs were pristine. Mr. Walker literally owned an Aston Martin that he barely even looked at. Anthony dreamed about the Porsche in his sleep.

He even ended up getting paid after the Missus found out it was ‘pro-bono’ work. At least that’s what her husband had called it, like community service--or something. The guy had a silver tongue that would make the devil jealous.

He spoke too smooth and too smart for his wife or Anthony to really figure out what he meant. All Anthony knew was the Missus pitched a fit and by the next week Anthony started getting cashier’s checks. They were for more money than he’d ever seen doing any hourly work in his life.

He got to know the two boys pretty well, too. Tom, the youngest, definitely took after his mother. He was just as gentle and naive. While Alex was a lot more like his father. The kid mastered his old man’s soul-menacing stare. The rich little bastard was pretty damn intimidating for a teenager. He was six years younger than Anthony, but he didn’t act it. Pretentious little shit.

They were all spoiled rich folk. They all knew they were too good for people like Anthony, the laborers. The Missus and Tom tried to hide it, tried to be nice about it. Anthony preferred the way the assholes handled it. Both Alex and his father didn’t beat around the bush. Anthony was the employee; they were in charge. They didn’t humor him about his opinion or try to change their language, so they weren’t talking down to him all the time.

Anthony kept quiet and collected his pay. Not like he had better options in the city. The West End gang had him working as a getaway driver for heists and stick ups. His last job turned into some bullshit turf war that got guys like him killed. If it weren't for his skill as a driver and loyalty to the gang, he would've been dead. He was expendable and smart enough to know it.

Anthony had no interest in being sent to prison after taking the fall for the gang, or risking leaving and being penniless or killed. He liked driving. With this gig he had enough free time to do what he wanted. He could keep a decent weekly gym routine and even hit the speedway with a rental to keep his skills honed. As long as his phone was on and he was at the ready to cart whomever, whenever, there were no problems.

It wasn’t all perfect, nothing ever was. Anthony got to see these people with their hair down, in those moments between being “on” in the public eye. He witnessed the faces made during heated phone calls and texts to people you didn’t tell your family you were texting.

He heard the phone calls between Mr. Walker and the gang. He heard the outlandish accusations the Missus would make about her husband and children and their ‘plotting’. He heard the twisted shit Alex would say just to get a rise out of anyone in the back of the car with him. He heard Tom try to imitate the venom in his words that came to his family members effortlessly.

Anthony mastered the art of schooling his face to neutral boredom. He heard everything. But worse, he knew the secrets circling just below the surface, threatening to come up for air.

The Missus spent most days stoned out of her mind. She didn’t seem like an addict. Anthony knew more than a few. But she was always a bit 'erratic' and 'clumsy'. At least that’s how Mr. Walker said it. Anthony always got a sick feeling in his gut when Mr. Walker talked about his wife and her _medication_.

Mr. Walker definitely had a few skeletons in his closet. And probably a few unmarked graves down in Red Hook. He was arrogant, but rich and intelligent enough to back it up. He seemed to only take joy when manipulating everyone around him. Anthony was used to the treatment. But when it was the man's own wife and children...

It wasn’t his place to get involved. Anthony just tried to ignore it.

One of Mr. Walker’s favorite past times seemed to be winding up his oldest son. Everyone in the family treated Alex with a certain level of disdain, and maybe a little bit of fear. Mr. Walker was always quick to put Alex in his place as the lesser, the child, despite being eighteen years old. He’d measure his two sons against each other constantly and seemed to find Alex lacking. And he always let him know.

Not to say Alex was an angel. The kid had problems. But, knowing the family as he did, Anthony could draw a straight line from those problems right back to the people who were supposed to love and protect him.

Despite how tough the kid acted; Anthony had seen tears in Alex's green eyes more often than any other family member. Considering how much the kid hated showing emotion, that left an impression. 

Anthony went out of his way to be nice to the kid. To even be the friend he desperately needed. He carted the boys to and from their private school and never saw Alex with any other kids, any other human person really. Even Tom avoided him. Today was no exception.

“Mr. Mcalister still giving you shit?” Anthony asked once Alex was loaded into the front seat of the car. He popped it into gear and took off towards the road. The extra burst of speed always made Alex smile.

Tom was staying after school for some nerdy club bullshit. Neither Anthony nor Alex could remember the name of it. The ritual for their after school drives alone was to race at reckless speeds and grab something to eat before taking Alex home. Anthony didn't like how skinny Alex was, especially for someone who was supposedly a healthy eighteen-year-old kid.

“No.” Alex grunted. One word answer, never a good sign.

“You talk to him after class like I told you to?” Anthony tried to be a good influence on the kid. Hell, anything was better than what Alex picked up from his old man.

It had taken months to get more than the monosyllabic answers or sarcastic, cruel responses from the kid. But, after nearly a year of trying, they had something close to friendship.

“I did. I told him if he kept giving me C’s on all my papers for no damn reason, I’d tell the superintendent about the PornHub account he accesses on school computers. You should see the search history I dug up. Lots of barely legal stuff.”

“Jesus, Alex, that’s not what I meant when I said talk to the guy.”

“It got the message through.” Alex folded his arms over his chest. He sat back into the plush leather as if that was that. But Anthony wasn't about to let this go.

“You keep manipulating people like this and you’ll end up--”

“Like my father?” Alex spat.

Anthony fixed his eyes on the road. He pulled into the diner they'd been favoring the last few trips. The pizza was decent enough, but nothing like in the city. Anthony had promised to take Alex there one day and prove it to him.

“That’s what you were thinking. That’s what everyone thinks. I’m my father. Everyone thinks it except for him.” Alex's voice frayed at the end. It hinted at his real feelings. Alex hated his father but craved his approval more than anything.

“It’s good you’re not your old man.” Anthony turned off the car and faced Alex.

“You don’t like him.” Knowing green eyes watched for Anthony's reaction.

“He’s my boss. I like him fine.” Anthony let his sarcastic smirk fill in the details.

“But you like me better?” Alex always looked so young when he asked questions like that. It tore up Anthony's heart knowing there weren't many people in Alex's life he could count on for any sort of love or affection.

“Yeah, I like you better." He acquiesced. “I don’t buy your dad food after he’s done with work.”

They picked up their usual to go order and drove out towards the abandoned tracks on the south end of the estate. There was a private little spot, surrounded by thick pine trees. This time of year, it was still mostly covered in melting snow and so beautifully quiet.

They ate in silence for a while. Anthony thought about the future. He'd had a shit run of it when he was Alex's age. Losing his mother to cancer, he was left with medical bills and an eviction notice before his eighteenth birthday. He didn't have any family to call on. Going to work for the West End gang had been his only option.

Alex faced different challenges, but they weren't all that foreign. He had fuck all for a support system and a world begging to see him fail. But at least he had options, and all that damn money.

“Look, high school’s almost over. Then you’re out. You can go to some fancy rich kid college where you can do irresponsible amounts of drugs and drink and fuck all the girls who fall prey to that gorgeous mug of yours.”

“I’m not… I don’t…” Alex put what was left of his food back in the bag. He frantically wiped at his hands with his dirty napkin.

“What?” It was rare for Alex to be so nervous. Angry, sure, spiteful, all the time, but honest to god nervous was a whole new look.

“I don’t… like girls.” His voice was small, afraid. Vulnerability like Anthony had never seen shown on Alex's face, desperate for a response.

“Oh… I, uh, didn’t know that.”

Alex's shoulders fell, just the slightest bit. Anthony tried to recover. “Well fine, then you’ll be fucking all the guys you want.”

Alex offered up a sad smile. His trembling lip had Anthony on edge.

“I’m sorry Alex, I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine. It’s better than what my father had to say.” Alex tried to cover the sound of tears in his voice with a cough.

“What did he say?” A sinking feeling pulled at his gut. Alex wouldn't meet his eye. Anthony kept his tone firm, but nonthreatening. “Alex, look at me. What did he say?”

“He said the Walker family reputation was more important than my perverted ‘proclivities’. He said he’d disown me if I ever tried to bring a man home. He said no one would ever love me, never touch me--that I… I was…”

Anthony reached across the console and pulled the kid in close. Alex sobbed hot tears into his chest. Anthony wrapped his arms around tight like a vice as Alex's body shook.

Anthony held him as the sky turned cloudy. Sleet fell heavily on the roof of the car until it warmed and dropped down the windows like rain. Alex's breathing evened out to quiet hiccups and then slow measured breath. Alex kept his face buried in the crook of Anthony's neck.

"It's gonna be ok." Anthony knew the promise was empty, but he said it anyway.

Alex settled and cleaned himself up as Anthony drove them to the front entrance of the mansion. He watched the mask of indifference drop back over Alex's face. He looked perfectly apathetic as he got out of the passenger seat and walked up the steps into the house.

He didn't turn back to wave goodbye.

Weeks passed and nothing more was said. Snow melted, though the air remained wet and cold. In late April, Alex sat in the passenger seat of the Porsche. He always asked to be driven in that car. Anthony suspected it was because he knew it was Anthony’s favorite. Clutched in Alex’s hands were letters. He’d applied to different schools around the country, and slowly the responses trickled back.

There was a thin layer of tension in his frame, but Anthony chalked it up to worry about college stuff. He'd barely finished high school, so this was a pretty foreign topic for him.

Alex ripped through the first few letters. They were all out of state schools and far away. Anthony knew it would be good for Alex to get away from his family. And yet, something pulled at him to talk shit about any place that would take Alex away. He’d likely never see the kid again. Once he was out of the house there would be no reason for it. Anthony was an employee, nothing more.

“NYU, that’s near where you used to live, right?” Alex’s question brought Anthony out of his confused headspace. He couldn’t change what was going to happen, so why worry about it?

“Yeah, kinda, I couldn’t afford to live anywhere near there, though. Maybe now...” Anthony drifted off as Alex tore open the letter. His bright green eyes scanned quickly.

“I’m going to NYU!” Alex showed him the letter, his face broken into the brightest smile.

“Nice one, smarty pants. I’m proud of you.” He leaned in and they met in the middle in an embrace. Alex squeezed him tight, his body practically vibrating with excitement.

"Oh, god, I was so worried I wouldn't get in." He lingered in the hug, dropping his forehead onto Anthony's shoulder.

"You never told me you had your heart set on NYU." Anthony pulled back. He searched Alex's face for explanation.

Alex looked at him, wide eyed, like a kid caught red-handed in the cookie jar. There was a sudden buzzing tension in the air.

"I just didn't want to get anyone's hopes up." Alex pulled away and threw the rest of the letters back in his book bag, some still unopened.

"Well, I knew you had it in you." Anthony let the moment pass. He didn't know what to do about it anyway.

He was proud of Alex. Something like selfish glee sat in his belly at the thought of Alex living in the city Anthony considered home. He didn't dwell too much on the thought. Nothing good came of getting too familiar with his employers.

He turned the conversation to the city. There would be so much for Alex to see and do. The kid just listened quietly as Anthony chattered on.


	2. Chapter 2

Anthony never heard how the family took the news. He didn't ask either. Life crept forward, Anthony drove where he was told and collected his pay. He had a pretty decent nest egg saved up now. It was something he'd never had in his life.

In late May, Alex graduated. The whole family went. Mr. Walker was on his phone during the majority of the day. The Missus seemed happy but a bit more drowsy than usual. Tom was just bored.

Anthony watched from the back of the school's theater. The place was bigger than a damn stage on Broadway. The kids were called up, one by one, gentle clapping echoed through the hall at every name. Anthony gave an ear-splitting whistle when Alex was called up.

After the ceremony, Anthony drove the family home. They didn't go out to dinner that night like he would have expected. He was told to just take them home and that would be all for the evening.

Anthony sent Alex a text after nine. Most of the lights were out in the house by the time he arrived in his beat-up old Honda. Instead of switching to one of the Walkers’ cars, Alex jumped into the front seat and they took off towards the tracks, headlights off.

They split a six pack of cheap beer and sat on the hood of Anthony’s car. The stars were so much brighter than they were in the city. Frogs and crickets broke up the silence of the night. Alex chugged down two beers before he spoke.

"I'm moving out next month. Dad hired a moving company already to pack my things and take me to the dorms."

"Seems kinda early." Anthony felt something sharp in his chest at the news. He took a long swig rather than name it.

"Special exception. I hope it cost him a fucking fortune.” Alex threw his empty bottle into the darkness. He leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. “I want to go, but…”

“No ‘buts’, you need to get out of here. This sheltered life, the way your family treats you. No one can protect you here.” _I can’t protect you here._ Anthony stopped the words before they came out. “It’s a big world out there. Full of assholes, sure, but there are a lot of people who just want to be your friend, just want to help you, and love you. You should go, and don’t look back.”

Alex looked over at Anthony. For a moment there was something raw and needy in those green eyes. Anthony saw it even in the darkness. But it was gone in a flash. Alex stuffed it down where Anthony assumed he kept all his other pain. The kid simply nodded and remained silent.

Anthony laid a hand on Alex’s shoulder. He tugged just slightly, and Alex went without a fight. They lay back against the windshield, the warm contact of skin touching skin as they lay so close to each other. The stars twinkled and slowly moved across the sky above them.

There was so much to say, too much. Neither said anything.

Anthony’s eyelids were getting heavy with Alex practically snuggled up so close. He woke the kid up with a gentle nudge and coaxed him back into the passenger seat. Alex was a little more awake by the time they got near the house. He asked Anthony to stop before getting too close and risk being seen.

“Can I text you, after I leave?” That tone again, nervous and unsure.

“Yeah, man, you gotta tell me what you think of my city! And tell me how right I am about the food. You have not lived until you’ve eaten _real_ New York pizza.” Anthony let his accent bleed through heavily. It brought a bashful smile to Alex’s face, so he considered it a victory.

“I probably won’t be able to say it later… so, goodbye, Anthony.” He reached for the handle to make a speedy exit, but Anthony stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. A small shudder passed between them, Alex stilled.

“I’ll see you later, and we’re gonna talk. A lot. You know I can talk your ear off, no problem.” Anthony pulled back and let Alex get out. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Night.” Alex shut the door quietly and disappeared into the shadows walking towards the mansion. He was packed up and moved out within the week.

True to his word Anthony sent regular texts asking for updates and keeping Alex talking while he was away. Anthony didn’t like the thought of Alex being alone in the city. But it wasn’t like Anthony had any connections other than the West End gang he could call on to look out for the kid.

Summer gave way to fall. Other freshmen started moving into the dorms and Alex’s texts got less frequent. He’d still respond within minutes of any message sent, but he seemed less desperate to keep the conversations going. He’d tried all of the food places Anthony recommended and used his private school vocabulary to call out Anthony’s lack of taste on a few of the selections.

He even had a few new suggestions for Anthony to try when he came back to the city. It was a question left unasked. Anthony thought it over a million times. Should he risk going back? Had the heat over his last bank job died down enough he could go back into the city to visit?

And what would he say to Mr. Walker? _Hey, I need the weekend off to go visit your son. The one you basically kicked to the curb. The one you haven’t visited once or invited back to the house to see his family._

Anthony tread lightly on the topic of Alex to the family. Just as he did when talking to Alex himself. The kid never asked about his parents or brother. Anthony never brought them up.

It all came to a head later that fall. The holidays were fast approaching but Anthony didn’t pay it any mind. He liked the way the trees changed color. After decades surrounded by steel and concrete, he never got used to all the green of spring and summer upstate.

Anthony dropped Tom off at the front entrance on his usual after school run, but instead of his afterschool tutor on the steps, it was Mr. Walker. He gave Tom a quick pat on the head and sent the boy into the house. Anthony’s heart sank. Mr. Walker wanted to speak to him.

He followed the man into his home office on the first floor. The room was brightly lit by the floor to ceiling windows. Shelves filled with law books glared at Anthony as he stopped in front of Mr. Walker’s desk. The giant mahogany desk separated the two men. Anthony wished it were wider.

"Your friends in the West End have been inquiring about your return. It appears it's about time we come to the end of our arrangement." The man’s tone was smooth and casual, as if he were discussing a simple business transaction and not his dealings with the mob.

Anthony kept his face neutral. He didn’t like how carefully Mr. Walker was studying his expression. “Whatever you think is best, sir.”

With a slight raise of his eyebrows Mr. Walker carried on. "I have a request." Anthony’s stomach plummeted. "Alex is attending school in the city."

"I heard. NYU, right?" He cursed himself for responding too quickly. The knowing look on Mr. Walker’s face proved he could smell the bullshit. Anthony realized he was a worm on a hook and Mr. Walker was deciding what to do with him next.

"It was the least he could do, getting into a reputable school. And as usual he performs the least of his duties." He declared with just a hint of a sneer.

Anthony bit his tongue. Hard. He thought about the thrill of taking the Porsche out on the open highway and really pushing her up to fifth gear. He thought about being out of this house, this room, and being able to breathe again.

"The family will be sad to see you go, Anthony. And for the family I would ask one last thing of you. You would be compensated for it, of course." Those sharp grey eyes pinned Anthony in place. Christ, how do you refuse the devil himself?

Anthony braced himself for the request. He hoped he didn’t look as worried as he was. Mr. Walker spoke: "Keep an eye out for Alex."

Anthony was so taken aback he was sure it showed on his face. Hell, a feather could have knocked him over after a statement like that. It sounded almost… fatherly. "Yeah, sure. No problem."

"Can't have him traipsing around the city, ruining the family reputation. And I know from your background with the gentleman from the West End you understand how important reputation can be to a family." He let the implications settle in the silence after his words.

"I do." There were ways the gang dealt with members that stepped out of line. It was the whole reason Anthony had agreed to this chauffeur gig rather than risk it to cut and run.

"No exceptions will be made." Mr. Walker followed up. “Thank you for your time with us, Anthony.”

The man leaned back in his chair and pulled out his cell phone. Anthony figured that was about as good of a dismissal as he was going to get. He gave an awkward nod and backed out of the room.

It didn’t hit him until he was halfway down the front steps. After more than two years with the family… it was over. A strange mixture of relief and dread bubbled inside. All ties were suddenly cut and he was adrift. Anthony didn’t know how to process any of it. So he didn’t.

He got back to his shitty rental apartment and finished off all the beer in the fridge. He passed out for the night.

Restless sleep didn’t help any. He checked his phone. One missed text from Alex asking how he was doing. One missed call from an unknown number. He didn’t recognize the number, but the area code told him it was from his old crew. Mr. Walker had said they were asking about him.

After one quick phone call, Anthony had his marching orders. He was headed home. He still felt stuck in a fog, but at least now he knew his heading.

It took one day to pack up his life, end his lease and utilities, and head out. One day. Anthony tried not to feel the emptiness in his chest at the thought. If he crashed on the highway and died in a ditch that would be it. His entire life fit into his Honda and could be gone without the world even noticing.

The shrill beep of his phone alerted him to a new text message. It was from Alex. Anthony unlocked his phone and hit call. Alex picked up by the second ring.

"Hey kid, I want to tell you something." Anthony hollered out loudly before Alex even had a chance to say ‘hello’.

"Yeah?" It was nice to hear the familiar voice. Even when his tone was suspicious.

"I'm moving back to Brooklyn!" Anthony pressed on the gas. Suddenly the thought of moving back didn’t feel so daunting. He might even call it exciting. Though, the dead silence on the other end of the line wasn’t exactly bolstering his newfound good mood. "Well, shit, don't get all excited or anything."

Alex remained silent for another moment. "Is my father sending you here?"

It had been a long time since they broached the subject of Alex’s father in conversation. It was a topic they both preferred to avoid. "What? No." As soon as the denial was out of his mouth Anthony felt dirty.

_‘Keep an eye out for Alex.’_ He hadn’t technically agreed to anything. He figured Mr. Walker meant for him to spy or sabotage as commanded. Likely the man thought Anthony could be bought with whatever money he was offered. Anthony knew in his heart he was loyal, and it wasn’t Mr. Walker who owned that loyalty.

"Did he fire you?" Alex sounded less suspicious but still far from his familiar timbre.

"No, man, Jesus, my contract is up with your family. That's all." Anthony could never tell Alex about his little chat with Mr. Walker. The man was a bastard and they both knew it. Confirming Alex’s fears wouldn’t help either of them. He’d never hurt Alex, and that was the end of it.

"So, I can't call you to drive me to classes?"

Anthony laughed. "You little shit. Look, I'm headed into the city today. Gotta find somewhere stable to live, check in with some people. Then I'm gonna call you, ok? Give me a few days. I gotta take you out for some real pizza like I promised."

There was another long pause, this one filled with a different kind of tension. "Ok."

"That sound good?" He wanted to hear more life in the young man’s voice. His quiet, reserved utterances reminded Anthony too much of when Alex was still hiding from his own father’s shadow.

"Sounds great, Anthony." His quiet response didn’t sound nearly as upset. It gave Anthony a bit of hope.

It felt good to have a friend. The West End gang were people he knew, people he worked for. Most everybody in Anthony’s life drifted away while he got stuck in one dead end rut after another. That’s what he had thought driving for the Walkers was going to be. Just another rut in a long line. He would leave and move on.

But, this thing, whatever he had with Alex just felt…sturdy. It started with him just wanting to help the kid out, but now it felt like Anthony was the one needing a friend.

His welcome back by his former employers was uneventful if a bit rushed. He stopped by a few of the gang’s favorite haunts looking for a familiar face. He found one sitting on a bar stool of some hole in the wall bar Anthony knew was in bed with the gang. Clay, the twitchy bookie-turned-middleman that had set up a few of Anthony’s bank jobs. He seemed happy Anthony was back, even bought him a beer.

He read Anthony into some of the details he’d missed out on while working upstate. Anthony took a passive interest in it, laughed when he was supposed to laugh and noted who he needed to not piss off in the tumultuous hierarchy of the gang’s upper management. Anthony was just as happy to keep his head down and not get noticed.

Clay made a few calls to find Anthony a place to stay. He busied himself picking over the shitty mix of peanuts and pretzels sitting out on the bar and slowly sipping on his beer. Bar food held no appeal.

He wondered about getting his own place with a nice kitchen and room to cook. He bet Alex didn't know how to cook. Spoiled rich kids never had to learn shit like that. Anthony would show him a thing or two. He had his mother’s pasta recipe memorized. They could start there, make a night of it.

“Hey, partner, I got you a place and a job.” Clay slapped Anthony’s shoulder and smiled into his drink. “Never say I didn’t do anything for ya!”

An hour later Anthony was emptying every worldly possession he had from his car to the shitty studio apartment Clay arranged for him. It was tiny, but affordable and had a good deadbolt. The neighbors were quiet, even late into the evening, so Anthony was grateful.

He could probably afford a better place with the money he’d made working for the Walkers, but he didn’t need much. He liked having some money in the bank anyway. After years of being indebted to creditors and hospitals and what he still owed to the gang. Having money in his own private bank account wasn’t something with which Anthony was familiar.

He was tempted to call Alex, ask him what someone was supposed to do when they had money to spend, or to hide. But he didn’t want to reach out yet. The gang had a job that needed done. And even though he had money, he was still too entangled with the gang to ever turn them down for work. Anthony didn’t want Alex anywhere near that.

Three days later the job was planned and executed. Thankfully, Anthony’s skill and precision as a driver was only mildly dulled after two years away. The crew had been professional enough to have a decent route and back up planned. An easy smash and grab, a quick drop off, and it was over.

The rush of adrenaline thrilled him in the driver’s seat, but the sick feeling of fear and suspicion came soon after. Anthony hated coming down after a job. He was a ball of energy that needed to lay low and away from any known associations until the investigation was over.

He figured Alex didn’t count. The kid was clean. Just some random NYU student in a city of millions. The morning after the job Anthony sent him a text.

It was short, just asking if he was free for dinner on Friday. Anthony had a restaurant in mind, a little mom-and-pop place near his apartment. He even offered to pick Alex up and give him a ride over ‘for old times’ sake’.

The response was quick. A middle finger emoji followed by: _pick me up at 7_. 

The next two days felt lighter, but also slower. Anthony distracted himself with shitty day time TV and hitting the gym. He couldn’t go to his old haunt to box. He couldn't hit the track to race. Too easy to get recognized. He found a nondescript chain gym that was light on staffing and even lighter on patrons at 10am on weekdays.

He liked working out, it gave him clarity, but didn’t force him to think. He could work himself ragged until all other stress melted away. He didn’t have to worry about his debts. He didn’t have to worry about the gang. He didn’t have to worry about Mr. Walker looming in the background just waiting to snap his fingers and force Anthony into something he didn't want.

Deadlifting three times his body weight was a good distraction. Anthony hit the weights hard, then did a few rounds on the speed bag. His arms felt like they were going to fall off but the knots of anxiety in his belly calmed.

By the time Friday rolled around Anthony was sore but far from tired. He had a literal spring in his step from the moment he got up. Seven o’clock couldn’t come fast enough. He texted Alex and they arranged to meet just off campus. Butterflies in his stomach surprised him, but he blamed it on his forced solitude.

Alex would be the first friendly face he’d see in days. By the time he crossed the bridge into Manhattan, those butterflies were throwing up in his belly. Nervous anxiety turning into a strange sort of fear.

Alex had only been in his car once, and it was far from expensive or even very clean. The place Anthony picked to eat wasn’t fancy or high class. Hell, it didn’t even qualify as hipster chic or ironically good. It was just a place Anthony felt comfortable. Would Alex think it was good?

He pulled into a parking spot where they had agreed to meet. The air was a bit chilly but nothing that bothered Anthony. Getting out of the Honda, he felt at a loss of what to do. He was early, like thirty minutes early. His muscles were coiled and jumpy.

He paced around to the passenger side of the car, away from traffic. He wasn’t sure why he was so tense. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything. It was dinner with a friend. Dinner with Alex.

Anthony leaned against his car. He looked at all the young students passing him by. Most were walking with headphones in, those fancy ones with no cords Anthony couldn't remember the name of, let alone afford. A few groups of kids laughed loudly as they stumbled by, no doubt already pre-gamed and ready for the weekend's festivities.

Alex had tried a few parties when the semester first started. He told Anthony it wasn't his scene, but he wondered. What was Alex doing hanging out with a no-good getaway driver who couldn't offer anything but trouble?

Anthony crossed his arms over his chest and debated just leaving. Alex was young, he'd get over it. He could make some real friends here, connections that could keep him in better circles. He could disappear into this world of money and entitlement and forget people like Anthony.

Just like Mr. Walker wanted. That thought stopped him reaching for his keys. Alex picked NYU. He chose to let Anthony into his life. He called, he texted, he agreed to meet for dinner.

"Anthony!" The voice was familiar, and a bit out of breath.

Too late for second thoughts. Anthony turned towards the voice just in time to brace himself. Alex didn't slow his jog as he barreled into Anthony for a hug. Too stunned to formulate any kind of sensible response Anthony just wrapped his arms around the other man's chest. He was warm and laughing.

A small voice in the back of Anthony's head reminded him they were in public and still holding each other. He pulled back.

“Wow, kid, you look… great.” Alex had grown up more than Anthony expected in the months since they’d last seen each other. His hair lay smoothed back, longer than Anthony remembered. The natural ginger tint looked almost brown in the dark of the evening.

He stood taller, like he grew a few inches over his previous six feet of height that already had him taller than Anthony. Alex always slumped and stooped at home. Here he stood at attention, more vibrant and alive. He'd filled out, too. He must have put on twenty pounds of muscle.

“You look happy to be home.” Alex smiled, the haunted tension around his eyes nowhere to be seen.

“Christ, you got no idea! I got flipped off three times and told to suck a bag of dicks just driving over here. I missed it!” Anthony’s wild-eyed declaration got Alex laughing, a sight he hadn’t realized how much he missed.

“You want me to drive? You might be out of practice with all that chauffeur work you’ve been doing upstate.”

“No one drives my baby but me. Get in, kid.” Anthony tossed over his shoulder, walking to the driver's side.

“Not a kid.” Alex snarked, dropping down into the front passenger's seat.

Anthony navigated the familiar streets with ease. Some strange surrealism filled him as two worlds combined. Alex in his car, driving through the city lights and busy streets. Something calm settled into Anthony's gut as he parked them in an open spot that lay right smack between his apartment and the restaurant.

They ordered together; Anthony paid. A small voice at the back of his skull reminded him that Mr. Walker could likely see the charges on Alex’s card, but he tried to ignore that dread. Alex picked a spot for them in the far corner of the small restaurant. Other customers came and went with takeout orders, so they were mostly alone with the friendly staff who stayed in back unless customers rang the bell. 

Anthony kept Alex talking about classes and dorm life. Those green eyes were smiling, honest to god smiling. His animated movements with each new story were something Anthony found strange but pleasing. Alex was definitely out of his awkward teen years. So much so, he was practically a different man than the withdrawn, spiteful kid Anthony first met.

Their food was delivered, the aroma drove Anthony to moan. Sure the place didn’t have the best curb appeal, but the food was cooked with a loving curation of spices and care. They were both quiet for a while, digging into their separate meals and trading bites of each other’s selections. The anxiety Anthony had felt earlier all but melted away.

"So, how's Vinnie or Finnie or whatever his name is?" Anthony asked between bites.

Alex rolled his eyes and swallowed before answering. "It was Vince. And I have no idea, we weren't _together_ or anything. It was just fooling around."

"Hey, the first person you're with means something." Anthony was the last person to take an authoritative role on someone else’s love life, considering his own shitty track record. But he felt like it was something Alex should be able to talk about.

They both knew he couldn't talk about it with his own family, and Alex never mentioned any close friends at school he shared things like this with. Besides, Anthony felt a protective streak wake up inside of him when he thought about those stories Alex had shared, guys he’d met, details he’d very much refused to give when Anthony grilled him.

"Well, he wasn't even that, so it doesn't matter." He shrugged and set about stabbing as many raviolis onto his fork as possible.

"You been getting some action out here, man?" Anthony knocked their knees together under the table. A light pink blush rose on Alex’s cheeks. He didn’t look up from his plate.

"Sewing some oats, I guess. Didn't want to be some loser virgin forever."

"Hey, you were never a loser. You were just a kid." Anthony found he liked that blush of color on Alex’s pale skin. It looked good, kind of cute. It was a weird word to apply to the guy. He wasn’t what Anthony traditionally thought of as ‘cute’. Sure, he had those amazing green eyes, with strong cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and sharp white teeth currently biting his lower lip... Anthony felt his libido getting away from him fast. He tore his eyes away and forced himself to take a bite of his food.

"Not a kid. You're barely even older than me."

Six years separated them in age, not that much of a difference in the long run. Getting to know each other for the last few years he knew they shared a lot of the same interests and values. Anthony never thought much about what they had in common. Their differences were too stark; the money, the family, their likely futures. But they were together, right here and now. He could be happy with just that.

Once they finished eating, they kept talking. Both warmed by the food, they moved out into the crisp night air and walked side by side, talking about everything and nothing. Anthony skirted any questions about his work, diverting easily into talk about cars and his times on the track.

He was thinking about hitting up the speedway to practice his driving next week. Alex seemed keen to join him. The thought of Alex behind the wheel of an engine with some power both thrilled and terrified him.

Without really meaning to, they ended up outside of Anthony’s apartment building. It was pushing past ten, but the thought of taking Alex home just didn’t sit right. Anthony felt the words on the tip of his tongue jump off before he could think them through. "Want to come up?"

"Yes." His response was out so fast and so clear. Alex met his eyes with a confidence Anthony didn’t even think to question. They didn’t talk in the lobby. They didn’t talk in the elevator. They didn’t talk in the hallway as Anthony pulled his keys loose and opened the door.

They quietly stepped inside. Anthony had left a few lights on for when he got home. He thought about offering Alex a beer. Wasn’t like it was the first time he furnished the minor with alcohol.

"Your apartment's smaller than my dorm room." Alex looked around the small space.

"Hey, we can't all be trust fund kids." It was a studio. Anthony liked to think it was tastefully organized, but he knew it was small. It felt smaller with Alex standing there with him.

"Anthony?" His quiet voice pulled Anthony around to meet his gaze. They stood close, but not touching. A weird sort of magnetism pulled at Anthony’s skin. Silence stretched out between them. Then Alex stepped closer. "I'm glad you invited me up."

Alex leaned in and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean forward and meet his lips. At first, it was sweet and tentative. Alex’s lips trembled beneath his. But sweetness turned to heat. Alex’s hands grabbed at Anthony’s shirt. He pulled him close but stepped forward, throwing Anthony completely off balance.

They landed against the kitchen counter. Alex bent Anthony back as he kissed him, open mouthed and needy. Anthony could barely tell which way was up, as Alex’s hands snuck beneath his shirt. Alex’s fingers sent electricity sizzling over his skin.

Anthony pulled his mouth free, gasping for air. "Hey, hey, slow down, slow down. Just a little bit." He had no hope of thinking straight with how quickly Alex was moving, and how quickly the blood was leaving his brain. "Take it easy, we don't have to rush."

"I want to. I've wanted you for so long." His words rang desperate. Not an inch of space was between them. Alex sucked at Anthony’s neck, hard enough there would likely be a lasting mark. His hands continued to pull at Anthony’s clothes. His neediness brought out an answering fire in Anthony’s blood.

They struggled together until their jackets fell to the ground. All that new muscle Alex had put on felt hot under his thin shirt. Anthony wasn’t completely sure of himself, never having fooled around with a guy before, but Alex didn’t seem to notice.

The kissing felt nice. The raw desire from someone so special to him felt nice, too. Anthony tangled his fingers in Alex’s hair and kept him close.

"Years, God, I wanted to kiss you for years. Couldn't do anything at the mansion. He'd know. Somehow he always knew everything. Couldn't risk you." Alex whispered his words into Anthony’s skin.

He had to blink a few times to get his brain to register what had been said. Even longer to get his response out as Alex’s hands moved south. "And here, I thought I was the one protecting you."

"You did protect me. But, you don't have to protect me from this." Alex pulled back, just enough to meet Anthony’s eyes. He stayed bent over, their hips pinned together against the unforgiving cabinetry. "I want this, you. Can I have you, please?"

Something lodged in Anthony’s heart and he couldn't bring himself to speak. Instead, he pulled Alex back in to say the words his throat couldn't form. Alex moaned as he melted into Anthony’s touch. He didn’t stay pliant for long. Anthony lifted his arms as Alex worked his shirt free. Lust turned green eyes dark as Alex took in the sight of his naked chest.

"Fuck--can I blow you? Please, just let me suck your cock.” Alex dropped down to his knees, working Anthony’s belt loose.

“Jesus, Alex, slow down for a second. _Wait._ ” Anthony grabbed the younger man’s wrists and forced him to stop. Lust muddled his thinking, but Anthony knew there was something wrong here. Alex was too desperate, too needy.

They hadn’t talked about this, not really. Anthony didn’t know what Alex liked, what he needed from a lover. Anthony didn’t want to take advantage of the kid because he was inexperienced. And he certainly didn’t want Alex to debase himself out of some misconstrued desire.

“Please.” The raw emotion on Alex’s face forced Anthony’s hand. No way could he stop this. Not that he really wanted to stop. He was hard enough to pound nails. Convincing himself he could be a good enough person to not meet Alex’s desperate lust with his own would just be a lie.

"Christ, ok, ok, you can have me. But, I want to touch you, too." Like so many times before, Anthony swore to himself that he’d be careful. He'd put Alex first and protect him. He pulled the other man to his feet and reached for the hem of his shirt.

Alex shoved his hands away. "No… I need to leave it on."

"What?"

"You won't like what you see." Alex smoothed his hands over his shirt as if to cover himself further.

"Alex, you're fucking gorgeous. I already like what I see. I just want to see more." Anthony moved in close. He didn't reach for Alex's shirt again, wanting to respect his nervousness.

"I'm not… there… are scars…"

Anthony froze. _Scars._ He cupped Alex's jaw in his hand, placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Let me see, Alex, please."

He had to see. His mind conjured up all sorts of images of what might be hiding under fabric. He needed to confirm what he already suspected.

Alex trembled but didn't stop him this time as Anthony pulled his shirt from his body. "Holy shit." Anthony whispered.

There were scars, mostly spindly white things across Alex's chest. Something that looked like maybe a burn of some sort covering his right shoulder. And all down his wrists and forearms slash marks of varying length.

"Please, don't stop. Don't let it ruin this. I'll put my shirt back on, it's fine." Alex squirmed away. He reached for his shirt, but Anthony stopped him.

"Did your father do this?"

Alex's whole body shook. Tears were gathering in his eyes and it tore at Anthony's heart. Shit, this was no place to make Alex think about his father.

"Alex, look at me." The tears in his eyes started to fall. "You're beautiful no matter what." It didn't matter where the scars came from. This was no place for pain.

He pulled Alex into his arms. His limp frame curled into Anthony, as if he was the only thing that could keep him standing. Skin to skin, the warmth grew between them. He placed gentle kisses along Alex's neck and shoulder. His hands moved with reverence mapping out the broad muscle and uneven skin.

“I want you, just like this. You’re beautiful.” Anthony promised.

"You can have me. Please, you're the only one I want." Alex's tearful admittance yanked at Anthony's heart strings. He deserved so much better. But Anthony would give all he could.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." Anthony kissed him gently. Salty tears flavored their lips. "Come with me." Anthony walked them back to the bed. Alex didn't stop touching him for a minute, as if afraid of what would happen if he let go.

Anthony guided him down onto his back. They stretched out across the dark comforter. Alex was all lean muscle and pale skin. The raw hunger in Alex's gaze pulled at him. 

Anthony placed kisses on every square inch he could reach. He licked at the scars and poured so much love into every touch. Anthony expected this to feel different from when he fucked a woman. It wasn't all the same. But Alex's soft skin was warm under his touch. Needy fingers held him close. It felt so goddamned right. It wasn't the same, but it was everything Anthony wanted.

By the time he got to Alex's waist, the man was a shuddering mess. Anthony undid the fastenings of Alex's pants and pulled everything away. His skin was alabaster, covered in marks of pink and white. Proof of all Alex survived. He was a vision.

"Can I touch you?" Anthony needed to know for sure. He wanted to hear those words from Alex's own mouth. He'd never be someone to take advantage of the younger man.

"Yes, anything, yes." Alex reached for Anthony's hands and pressed them to his chest. Their mouths met again.

Anthony swallowed up every whimper and mewl from Alex as his hands mapped out the young man's responsive body.

"Fuck, Alex, you're so fucking perfect...fucking gorgeous." Anthony kissed every compliment and praise into Alex’s skin. He loved how each word seemed to bring the young man closer to the edge, nearly as much as his touch.

He reached to the bedside table and pumped some lotion into his hand. Alex's straining cock begged for his attention from its nest of reddish curls. The delicate skin burned hot under his touch. Pearls of precome already beaded at the tip.

Anthony pressed his body in close. His own erection still trapped inside his jeans. It didn't matter, he wanted to watch Alex come. He needed to give him this, all of his love, every bit of his attention.

With a firm grip Anthony stroked him. He used the same subtle twist that he enjoyed on himself. From the full body shudders of the man beneath him, Anthony supposed he was doing the right thing. Watching Alex's expressive face with every upward drag of his hand was so incredibly arousing.

Alex pulled Anthony's face back in for a kiss, wet and filthy. He whimpered and writhed with every stroke. His fingers dug into Anthony’s flesh, clawing at him wherever he could grab, desperate to keep him close.

"You're so perfect, baby, so fucking hot." His words and ministrations drove Alex wild in his arms. His hips bucked and Anthony knew he was right on the edge. "That's it Alex, come for me."

"Anthony--Anth--" He moaned. Hot spurts of come covered Anthony's fist as he stroked Alex through his orgasm.

Gorgeous sounds left Alex's throat as he wound down. Anthony leaned down to capture them all in his kiss. He wanted to remember every last one.

Alex whimpered when Anthony tried to pull away. So instead, he grabbed a handful of tissues from the bedside table and did his best to clean them up.

Anthony was still hard but looking down at Alex drifting off to sleep in his arms he barely cared. He wrapped the younger man up tight in his embrace and passed out with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Warmth and pleasure beckoned Anthony from sleep. It took a moment for his brain to make sense of what he felt. Forcing heavy eyelids to open, he looked down to confirm that yes, there was someone else in bed with him. And yes, they were between his legs sucking his cock to hardness.

Everything came rushing back as Alex took more of him into his hot mouth. Anthony let out a shuddering sigh.

"Alex, oh fuck, baby, that's so good." Anthony placed his hand on the back of Alex's head. He didn't push, just enjoyed the gentle, rhythmic movement.

Alex moved slowly. Sucking him down to the root and lingering to let his tongue massage the pulsing vein on the underside of Anthony's shaft. Shit, the kid knew how to suck cock.

"Oh, fuck, baby that feels so fucking good." Anthony fought the urge to buck his hips as Alex continued to drive him to madness.

He was no poet but showered his lover with every compliment his lust-addled mind could think of. How perfect he was, how gorgeous, how amazing.

Alex moaned at his words. The vibration of his throat sent electric sparks up Anthony's spine. Alex picked up the pace. He gagged on the thick head hitting the back of his throat but didn't slow down.

"Alex--Alex, I'm close." Anthony's strained words only seemed to egg the younger man on. The suction on his cock increased as Alex took him all the way to the root and swallowed.

Anthony grabbed ahold of Alex's head and held him in place as he came. His whole body clenched tight as Alex continued to suckle him. The bliss lasted precious moments as Anthony pumped his hot come down Alex's willing throat.

Anthony's vision blurred; his eyelids heavy again. Alex moved off him with panting breath. It took a few moments for Anthony’s brain to restart. He realized how hard he'd been restraining Alex when he came.

"Fuck, I'm sorry I held you down like that--"

Alex launched himself forward, kissed Anthony, needy and desperate. The salt from Anthony's own seed was just a hint of an aftertaste on his tongue.

"That was so hot. You taste so good." Alex said dreamily. He moved in close to cuddle under Anthony's arm. The warmth of skin on skin threatened to pull him back to sleep.

Anthony smiled into lazy kisses. A spark of heat lit in his belly. "Want me to return the favor?" He thought about watching Alex come for him earlier. It was so hot, even his flaccid dick gave a stir of interest.

"Already did. You holding me down and coming in my mouth was too much for me." A pretty blush colored Alex’s cheeks.

"Fuck, you're killing me here." Anthony rolled them both over, so he lay overtop, nuzzling down into Alex’s neck.

"Give me a little bit and I can probably go again soon."

"Horn-ball. Lucky you're so young." Anthony teased.

"You're not that old." The eye roll could practically be heard in his voice.

"Older than you." Anthony propped his head on his fist and looked down at Alex splayed beneath him. "You got anywhere to be this weekend?" He tried to sound casual. His nerves ratcheted up waiting for Alex’s response, but he refused to come off as desperate.

"Not until class on Monday." Alex smiled.

"Good. Then you're staying right the hell here." It was still late, or early really. Anthony pulled Alex in close and they cuddled together under the messy sheets and ruined comforter until they both fell asleep.

They stayed in bed until morning turned to early afternoon. Anthony cooked them a simple breakfast which just led to him getting another blow job as a ‘thank you’. Watching Alex on his knees in the middle of his kitchenette was nearly enough to drive him over the edge. His talented mouth got Anthony the rest of the way there.

Alex went for a shower after they ate, while Anthony laundered their clothes and sheets. He popped over to the bodega on the corner of his block for some lube and condoms. He was pretty sure he had some in his apartment but would bet good money they were expired.

He returned to the apartment with the supplies and some takeout. A deliciously naked Alex lounged on his couch wrapped in a blanket, flipping through his phone.

Anthony left the food on the coffee table. He dropped the bag from the bodega next to Alex with a smirk. The younger man opened the bag and let out a laugh at the three different flavors of lube. Anthony wanted to be prepared.

“Great minds think alike. I just ordered some lube online. Paid extra for shipping, should get here by Monday. In case you need some in the future, so you don’t have to run to the corner store just to fuck someone properly."

There was a clear snark to Alex’s voice, but his wording caught Anthony’s attention. He nodded for Alex to make room and dropped on the couch next to him. He debated for a moment before deciding to press the issue.

“You know this isn't a onetime thing, right? We're not just 'fooling around'. At least, I'm not." he wouldn’t blame Alex, if that was what he wanted. But thinking about just being fuck buddies, or just a onetime fling, made Anthony’s heart wrench.

“I don’t want to scare you off. I mean, if you want to keep this casual…” Alex let the words dangle. He looked uncomfortable saying them.

“I don’t. I mean, I’m not sure how, or if, we can make this work. I don’t really know what I can ask of you here.” He didn’t have the right to ask anything of Alex. He was a loser; his life was a mess. What right did he have to drag Alex down?

“Anything.” Alex put a hand on Anthony’s cheek. God, those green eyes looked so earnest.

“You can’t say that for sure. You’re still--”

“Young? Full of potential? Some other placating garbage? Anthony, I tried not wanting you. I fucked other people. I tried to date. But no one… no one was _you_.”

A sudden wash of jealous anger flooded Anthony at the thought of Alex with someone else. Someone who didn’t know him. Someone who wouldn’t understand the scars on his skin, or the loneliness in his eyes. Someone who wouldn’t look at him and think he was the most beautiful, amazing, strong human creature. Fuck, Anthony never stood a chance.

“Okay.” A weird twist of happiness and guilt melted in his gut. “So, I’m like your boyfriend or whatever?”

“You’re it. You’re everything for me.” Alex took his hand, entwining their fingers.

Anthony looked down at the contrast between Alex's pale skin and down own olive tinted flesh. “Shit, I, uh, I’ve never really been anybody’s everything.”

Alex kissed him, slow and soft. It calmed his worries. “Sorry, that’s a lot to dump on you. Let’s just eat something and watch some TV, ok? You got any alcohol in this place?”

The food and beer helped. They watched TV and ate. Slowly they worked their way back into each other's personal space. Anthony felt his muscles start to relax and his mind wander to more sultry distraction.

There was a bag on the floor next to them filled with condoms and lube, after all. He reached down and put the bag in his lap. He could feel the heat from Alex’s stare on him as he picked through the contents.

Alex was the first to break the tense silence. “Can I--I, um, I’m okay with bottoming if that’s what you want. But…”

Anthony had been thinking about it since the moment he decided to go to the bodega. He’d never been with a guy before. He’d fucked a few of his ex’s in the ass. It was fine, a nice experiment, but it wasn’t something he liked more than any other method of getting off.

The thought of Alex fucking him held a unique appeal. Scorching hot memories of the younger man coming apart last night filled Anthony’s head. Thinking about him doing that while pounding Anthony into the mattress was enough to get his blood up. He was sure he could deal with any pain.

Anthony licked his lips slowly. He spoke with a sultry tone. “You wanna fuck me?” The rush of blood straight to his cock surprised him. The look of shocked lust on Alex’s face had his mouth running even more. “Wanna top me? Wanna fuck that dick inside me? Make me come on your cock?”

“Fuck, yes.” Alex groaned. He pulled Anthony into his arms, kissing open mouthed and filthy.

"Never done it before, but I wanna try." Anthony whispered between kisses. They moved together, pulling Anthony to straddle Alex’s hips. Electricity passed between them as they both searched for more friction, more heat.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you, I promise." Alex helped Anthony out of his shirt.

Making out led to stripping. Stripping led to chasing each other onto the bed. Anthony found himself sprawled out on his back staring up at rust-colored stains on his ceiling. Alex lay between his thighs sucking his cock. It felt amazing, but he couldn't quite get past the worry of what came next.

"Can you pull your knees up to your chest, Anthony? Yeah, that's perfect. I want to eat you out, too. We'll go slow opening you up. It'll feel weird at first, but I promise I'll make it good."

Anthony just nodded his head. Words eluded him in his vulnerable position. He trusted Alex, but this was completely unexplored territory. He lay there naked and clueless.

He tried to do everything Alex said. He took deep breaths, forced his muscles to relax. Alex's tongue was warm and wet, more agile than Anthony expected. A hand stroking his dick helped keep him from flagging.

He sucked in a hiss when Alex started to worm a lube coated finger inside. Alex laid kisses along Anthony's dick. “How does that feel?”

“Weird--not, like, bad.” He tried to sound reassuring. He didn't want Alex to stop just because he was nervous. Anthony never expected this to feel good for him, but he wanted to do it for Alex.

“You’re doing so good.”

Anthony wanted to laugh. Now he was the one needing praise and encouragement. Sarcastic and self-deprecating remarks sat ready to jump off his tongue when suddenly an electric shock of pleasure shot up from deep inside causing his hips to buck.

" _Holy fuck._ ”

"There it is." Alex’s devious finger continued to rub on that spot. Anthony wanted to clench and pull away nearly as much as he wanted to open up and beg for more. Alex stayed calm, his anchor in the storm. "Does that feel good?"

"Fuck, baby, yes, fuck!" Anthony felt the pressure increase as one finger became two. Alex stayed steadfast on that little spot. Anthony swore colorfully as Alex traded between sucking his cock and thrusting his fingers in and out, right over top of his prostate.

Orgasm threatened, so close, but still out of reach. This felt different, deeper. Alex deep throated his cock with one last wet slurp. His fingers pulling out felt like a strange sort of loss. But his warm body moving up to cover Anthony was a welcome pleasure.

“Are you ready?” Anthony’s body throbbed at his words. He wrapped his legs around Alex’s hips as the younger man pulled a condom from the box. Anthony grabbed the bottle of lube himself and sat up to coat Alex’s latex covered dick, giving it a few extra tugs for good measure.

Alex groaned and found his mouth. They fell back onto the bed. He wrapped himself around Alex completely, wanting to keep him as close as possible. Alex pulled his mouth away just for a moment, lining his cock up with Anthony’s hole.

Anthony took a deep breath as Alex nudged his way inside. Even with the lube and the prep his body was tight and untested. He sucked hickies into Alex’s neck to distract from the discomfort. He knew how good that tight heat felt. He wanted Alex to have every bit of pleasure he could offer.

They started to move, slow and easy. Alex shuddered in his arms, but his body knew what to do. His hips started to churn, stroking in and out. A strong hand at the back of Anthony’s thigh hitched him up so his hips angled perfectly for Alex’s dick to sink in deep.

Alex groaned and jerked forward. His cockhead lined up with that tender spot inside and Anthony’s brain short circuited. He cried out and Alex caught on quickly. The younger man set a punishing pace, holding Anthony still and riding him hard. It was just as he had fantasized, but he hadn’t expected this much pleasure.

"Right there, _right there._ Alex, fuck--yes!" Anthony couldn't hold back. His body erupted as Alex continued to fuck him. Hot come drooled from his cock and over his belly. Anthony had never had an orgasm like that before. It was deeper, longer, drawn out by Alex’s thrusts.

A second wave of ecstasy rolled over him as Alex came. Anthony could feel the warm pulses against his sensitive walls as Alex collapsed in his arms. They lay together, happy and exhausted until Alex caught his breath.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He pulled back gently. Anthony reached out and smoothed the furrow on the younger man’s brow.

“You didn’t hurt me. I mean, you nearly killed me, but I’m okay. Didn’t think I could come like that.” They both smiled into a kiss before Alex scooted off the mattress and walked over to the bathroom. Anthony’s eyes watched the long lines of his back as he moved.

He returned with a washcloth and gently cleaned the lube and semen from Anthony’s skin. It was another foreign sensation for the books. Anthony wasn’t used to being cared for by a lover, and sure as hell hadn’t expected it to feel so tender.

The rest of the night was spent cuddled close and sleeping soundly. Right then and there, Anthony wouldn’t have traded the feeling for any amount of money in the world.

On Sunday, Anthony drove them back to Manhattan. They spent the day sightseeing like tourists, buying each other shitty “I ♡ NY” memorabilia and snacking on street food. By early afternoon they were both tired but dragging their feet on what was to come.

Silently, they sat in the car, engine humming quietly. Their fingers intertwined, as they had been most of the day. Alex had class at 8am but neither of them wanted to acknowledge it. Anthony looked over and saw the look on Alex’s face. It was a look he knew all too well. It was how he looked when he retreated into himself. When his father would belittle him, or his mother would ignore him.

“Hey.” He tugged at their clasped hands. “I’m gonna see you in a few days. You work hard during the week, and I’ll be right here Friday to rescue you from all this money and fancy-ass bullshit. Keep you locked up in my shitty studio apartment all weekend.”

Alex looked at him but offered a small smile. He reached for the door handle, but Anthony was on him first. They came together in a mess of need. Alex stretched his body halfway over the console to be closer. Anthony understood that desperation. If he could, he’d keep the kid chained to his bed and never leave the apartment.

Alex’s sweet kisses and gentle touch was something that Anthony would need to jealously protect. Which included not letting him miss classes.

“Text me when you get back to your dorm.” He laid a kiss to the very tip of Alex’s nose.

“Thank you for this weekend, Anthony. I…”

Anthony cut him off with one more kiss. He knew the words they both might say. But it was too early, too new. Making too many promises now would risk everything.

“Goodnight.” They echoed to each other. Watching Alex disappear into the dark of the evening tore at his heart.

Anthony turned on the radio on his way home. He needed a distraction from the ache. It was strange. He’d been young and stupidly infatuated before, but this felt altogether different. He chalked it up to hormones or his own loneliness.

He got Alex’s text confirming he made it back to his room. The follow up message: _’wish I was with you’_ both lifted and ruined his mood. Anthony shoved his phone in his pocket and focused on the drive.

Despite his heart feeling like it turned to lead in his chest Anthony successfully made it home and into the front door. The stillness of the place irritated him. Luckily the quiet was interrupted by the chirping of his phone in his pocket. A smile bloomed on his face. Anthony wondered if Alex would be ok with sexting.

The name that flashed on his screen froze the blood in his veins. _Mr. Walker._

The harsh reminder of reality threatened to make Anthony ill. Mr. Walker wanted updates on his son. Anthony started to pace. Luckily it was just a text, Anthony had time to figure out what the hell to say, what the hell to do.

He could ignore it, and risk further contact with a likely pissed off Mr. Walker. He could respond and tell him nothing but lies. He could tell him he spent the weekend making love to his son and to go straight to hell.

In the end he settled on a decent lie. He promised to check up on Alex this week and report back. It felt dirty but it was the best he could come up with. He didn’t exactly lie, he just didn’t acknowledge that he’d already talked to Alex. And he did want to check up on him this week. It was… diplomatic.

Thankfully, Mr. Walker took him at his word. Or at least he didn’t message him back again. Anthony did his best to forget it and throw himself back into work. The gang needed some sensitive deliveries made, and Anthony needed distraction.

The days crawled by. Alex reached out when he was bored during classes. They called every night, falling asleep on the phone to each other breathing. By Thursday the calls turned slightly filthier. And Anthony learned that, yes, Alex was okay with sexting.

And his dorm room had excellent lighting.

Friday finally arrived. Anthony broke more than a few traffic laws on his way to pick Alex up. The drive back to his place proved to be more dangerous. Alex couldn’t keep his hands on his side of the car, and Anthony had zero willpower to resist him.

Anthony was fully hard and sporting a series of hickies by the time he put the Honda into park. Alex seemed hell bent on getting him off before they even left the car. Not wanting to get cited for indecent exposure, Anthony pushed Alex away.

“Fuck, I missed you.” Alex whined when there was finally an inch of space between them.

“Then come upstairs and show me.” He ducked out of the car before Alex could pull him back in for another distracting kiss. The elevator had been blessedly empty. Anthony didn’t think either one of them had enough self-control not to grind on each other the whole ride up.

They fell into the apartment together, pulling at winter jackets and clothing. Alex made it to the bed first, Anthony watching him strip with lustful eyes. The lube Alex ordered had arrived earlier that week. They put it to good use.

Alex took him from behind, tender and slow. It felt like making love. Anthony had never made love to anyone before. He felt a lot of things with Alex he’d never felt with anyone before. They were friends, they got along. Alex’s humor was dark and intelligent, but he laughed his ass off at Anthony’s lowbrow petty humor.

They liked the same food, even had a similar taste in music. They had amazing chemistry in the sack. But it was more than that. Alex felt comfortable. Anthony didn’t have to put on a front. They already knew a lot of each other’s dirty secrets, be it Alex’s family or Anthony’s work. They didn’t have to lie to each other and pretend to be normal.

Anthony rolled the thoughts about his feelings for Alex over and over in his head. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, if anything needed to be done. He knew how Alex felt. He knew they were both in danger if anyone found out about them.

Anthony woke up early, the worry mixed with exhilaration of having Alex in his bed didn’t make for the best of sleep. He jumped in the shower, planning on picking up breakfast and coffee before Alex woke up.

Stepping out of the bathroom in his boxer briefs, Anthony was shocked to find Alex awake. He sat on the edge of the bed, doubled over and staring at the phone in his hand. It wasn’t his phone. It was Anthony’s.

“Alex--?”

“My father texted you, asking for updates.” The tears in Alex’s eyes sent a cold shock though Anthony’s belly. “Updates on what?”

“Alex.” _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ What the fuck was he supposed to say?

“Say it, Anthony. What does he want updates on?” Alex shot to his feet.

“It’s not--”

“You’re spying on me! For _him!_ ” He held the damning texts up in Anthony’s face.

“I’m not, I swear!” He had to explain. This was all a mess. He would never hurt Alex. He just had to explain.

“Then what the fuck is this?” Alex threw the phone. The clatter of plastic and glass couldn’t distract Anthony from the look of gutted betrayal on Alex’s face.

“It’s not what it looks like. I swear. I would never betray you like that.”

Alex shoved himself away. He moved on clumsy feet grabbing his clothes from the floor and shoving them in the overnight bag he had brought for the weekend. Panic forced Anthony to speak.

“Where are you going?” He stepped into Alex’s path. He didn’t want to fight. He just needed to explain.

“Anywhere but here.” Alex ducked around him.

“You can’t leave.” Anthony stepped back to block the door.

“I’m not your fucking prisoner. I can’t fucking believe you!” Alex planted his feet as if ready to rush the door.

“It’s late, just please, stay, Alex--don’t go.” Anthony put his hands up and stepped away. The thought of Alex alone on the street at night terrified him. He’d be angry and crying and it was all Anthony’s fault. “Please, Alex, just--I love you, please don’t go.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could sensor them.

Alex stopped dead. Hand on the door handle. A small spark of hope grew in Anthony’s chest. But when Alex turned back it was with tears running down his cheeks. “I’m sure my father needs to be updated on this little revelation of yours. Don’t fucking call me.”

Alex slammed the door shut behind him. Anthony stood frozen, staring at the peeling paint. His heart just walked out the door, he didn’t even know how to breathe.

He loved him. He _loved_ Alex. He should have come clean from the start. They could have been laughing about this, naked in bed. Anthony found his phone in pieces in the kitchen. He couldn’t even call to make sure Alex got home okay.

Fuck, this was a goddamn mess.

Anthony got dressed as quickly as he could. He raced to the elevator and prayed Alex would be in the lobby just waiting for him. He could explain. They could go back upstairs. Everything would work out alright.

The lobby was empty. Anthony went outside. It was freezing cold, but he didn’t care. He ran up and down the block and found no sign of Alex anywhere. He sent up a silent prayer the kid was smart enough to call a ride. It was dangerous at night, and cold. Shit, had Alex put his jacket on before he left?

Anthony stood in a torturous limbo. He knew Alex wanted space. _Don’t fucking call me._ Anthony wanted anything but. He wanted to fix this, but he didn’t even have a functional phone. He debated getting in his car and just driving to Manhattan. Hell, he could probably beat Alex there.

He stood out in the cold until his fingers went numb. He promised not to hurt Alex. Every step of the way he had promised. Now he’d done it and was powerless to take it back.

Anthony forced himself back inside. He’d get a new phone in the morning. He’d give Alex space. And he’d make a plan for how to get him back.


	4. Chapter 4

Anthony woke up late. Fitful sleep left him feeling hungover. His heart ached like a wound. He couldn’t bring himself to eat, the thought of hitting the gym or the track made him feel hopeless and even more tired.

After two hours of staring at the rust stains on the ceiling, he got out of bed and went to replace his phone. His contacts and pictures were saved on the cloud. It was a relief to know his one connection with Alex now wasn’t completely lost.

He drove slow on the way home, debated heading towards the bridge, towards Alex. He knew it wouldn’t do any good but being trapped in agony was hell. He wouldn’t hurt Alex again. So he waited.

Two days crawled by. Anthony kept busy doing runs, miniscule errands for the gang that could be done by people far less skilled. The work kept him distracted. By Wednesday he was ready to climb the walls. Even Clay noticed, asking him what uppers he was trying, because he really needed to share.

Anthony couldn’t eat, he couldn’t concentrate. His driving was getting sloppy. And his phone was far too silent. So, he made the decision. Enough time had passed. He had to win Alex back.

Without so much as a plan, he unlocked his car--ready to run through every building of NYU until he found Alex and made him understand.

His phone rang.

With twitching hands, Anthony pulled it loose from his jacket. _Mr. Walker._ Like a sign from the heavens. Anthony prepared to tell the psycho off for all the ways he ruined Alex’s life. But he didn’t get a chance.

As soon as Anthony picked up, the man started talking. He sounded a bit rushed, like he was in a hurry and didn’t have time to speak to someone so unimportant.

“Anthony, I need a favor of you. Alex is in the hospital and I can’t make it into town. The school has everything on file about his insurance information, but it seems the incompetent…” His deep voice droned on but Anthony could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears.

“Which hospital? Is he okay? Is he hurt?” Anthony nearly dropped his keys and phone scrambling to open the door of the car. With a beleaguered sigh Mr. Walker continued.

“They tell me he’s stable. Please pay attention, Anthony. I’ve emailed you a copy of Alex’s insurance coverage and would appreciate you giving the information to the case manager when you have time. Today would be preferable.” A tense silence followed. Anthony blinked.

_When he had time. Can’t make it into town._ He wanted to scream. But Alex needed him.

“Which hospital!?” He tried to keep the panic from his voice. After a pause that felt like an eternity, Mr. Walker gave the name with a clear tone of disdain. Anthony didn't give a shit. He hung up and revved the engine. He was going to set a damn land speed record in his Honda.

Visitor parking was a nightmare. Anthony forced himself to drive slowly as he circled his way to the fifth floor before he found a spot. He ran down the stairs, his pulse throbbing in his temple. He’d be okay, Alex would be okay. He had to be.

Anthony sprinted through the front doors and all the way to the front reception desk. He could feel the security guard’s eyes on him. He was always nervous around cops, even fake cops, so he kept his voice low.

“I’m looking for a patient here, Alex Walker.” The quiver in his voice was obvious. The middle-aged woman behind the desk didn’t seem phased. She nodded slowly and tapped her acrylic nails over the keyboard.

“Your relation to the patient?” She asked slowly, far too slowly.

Shit.What the hell were they to each other? Anthony had meant it when he told Alex he loved him… at the worst possible moment. They weren’t likely going to let him see Alex as his family’s ex-chauffeur, or his ex anything really. He didn’t even think he’d get a pass calling himself Alex’s boyfriend.

“Fiancé, I’m his fiancé. They told me he was in an accident but didn’t give any details over the phone.” It was a believable lie, not too far from the truth.

She pursed her glossy maroon tinted lips before nodding again with a sympathetic frown. With a few more clicks of the keyboard the small printer next to her whirred to life. She handed him the freshly printed visitor badge and slowly instructed him on how to get to the trauma ICU.

Anthony wanted to be sick. Panic sped his feet as he raced to the elevators. The damn thing moved like molasses to take him to the top floor.

Anthony practically ran when the doors opened. Room twenty-one, he couldn’t think straight enough to follow the confusing layout of the ICU. After his second lap and a few very concerned glances from the staff he found Alex’s room.

The door was closed, but a large window gave him a clear view inside. Monitors and IV poles blocked Alex’s face. Bleach white blankets covered his body in the bed. Anthony could see the little green lines on the largest monitor above the bed. His heart rate seemed clear and steady.

“Are you family?” A gentle voice asked. Anthony turned to find a pretty young woman standing next to him. She watched Anthony closely but without suspicion.

“Yeah--yes, Alex’s fiancé. I’m Anthony.” He pointed to the badge on his chest. Anthony wondered if Alex was awake and talking. He was likely to get kicked out as soon as the young man laid eyes on him. But even if he was still mad, then it meant he was okay. Anthony would take any wrath Alex had left as long as it meant he was healthy.

“Nice to meet you Anthony. I’m Bryce, Alex’s nurse.” She nodded towards the door.

Anthony felt the urge to walk into the room, but his feet wouldn’t budge. What would he find in that hospital bed? “They didn’t tell me over the phone. What happened?”

“I’ll page the trauma doctors to come talk to you about everything, but from the report it looks like Alex was struck by a car.” Anthony’s gut lurched. “He has a broken arm on his left side and a broken leg on the right. A few broken ribs and some pretty major damage to his jaw and left eye.”

Anthony nodded his head. He felt numb. Was Alex walking home when he’d been hit? Was he so distracted by Anthony’s betrayal he hadn’t seen the car? Shit, this was his fault. This was all his fault.

“But it looks like there wasn’t any internal hemorrhaging in his brain or organs.” Bryce offered with a small smile.

“What?” She was using way too many words he didn’t understand. Not that he was having an easy time processing anything she was saying, but the medical jargon was way over his head.

“No brain damage. He’s pretty banged up and has already had one surgery to fix his leg. He’s breathing okay on his own for now, and we’re keeping him lightly sedated for the pain. I’m sure he’s going to be so happy to see you.” She stepped back and opened the door to Alex’s room.

“We had a fight…” Anthony stood on the edge. He was here, Alex was okay. Part of him wanted to run in and fall to his knees, begging for forgiveness. The other, more cowardly part just wanted to turn tail and run. Alex was alive, he’d seen it himself. He should go.

“Familiar faces are always better than being here alone. We try to keep everyone comfortable, but it’s scary. He’ll want to see you, I promise. I’ll go page the doctors. Take all the time you need. If you have any questions, I’ll be up at the nurses station.”

She stepped away, taking every excuse Anthony had with her.

“Thanks.” He offered as she walked away.

The door hung open. Quiet beeps sounded from inside the room. The air was cool, sending a shiver down Anthony’s spine. He wondered if Alex was cold.

He thought about the last three days. What he would have given to be this close to Alex. Now, fear slowed every step. Anthony took a gulp of air and closed the door behind him. No going back.

His shoes squeaked loudly on the sterilized tile floor. The sheets stirred in the bed and drew Anthony’s eyes up. His heart skipped a beat.

Bloody bruises covered Alex’s face. His left eye was covered by a metal patch and gauze. The iris of his right eye looked even more green than Anthony remembered, surrounded by the blood-red sclera. Thin black stitching held together the right lower half of his face. There wasn’t an inch of his visible skin not covered in scab or bruise.

“Anthony?” Alex rasped.

Anthony winced at how dry the kids throat likely was. He grabbed the cup of water on the bedside table and stepped in closer. “There you are. You’re late.” Alex’s dopey smile made him want to laugh with relief.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I should have been here sooner. Take a sip.” He offered the straw, and Alex carefully drank. He seemed to be concentrating a lot to sip with his swollen lips.

He coughed just a little but smiled. “ _Baby,_ I like it when you call me that.” Alex sighed dreamily and settled back onto his pillow.

“I’ll call you whatever you want.” Anthony promised. He pulled the bedside chair next to the bed. He needed to sit down. The rush of adrenaline that had gotten him here was now completely depleted.

“Kiss me.” Alex reached out to him with his splinted arm.

“You got stitches all over your face. I don’t want to hurt you.” He signed with relief. Alex wasn’t shouting, wasn’t crying. He was happy Anthony was there. Sure, he was likely out of his mind from the drugs, but it felt so good to know he was happy Anthony was there.

Alex’s smile turned to a pout. He looked far more adorable than he had any right to. Anthony was powerless to resist. “I promise, once those stitches are out I’ll kiss every inch of you.”

“Every inch?” Alex waggled his one visible eyebrow.

“Every inch.” Anthony lifted Alex’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

They sat there in the quiet just gazing at each other. Anthony knew he needed to say more. He had apologies and excuses all memorized and ready. But Alex beat him to the punch.

“I love you.” He signed, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Anthony’s head.

“Alex--” He was out of it, and likely high as a kite. Anthony knew it was too much to dare to hope.

“I’ve loved you since I was in high school. I don’t care about anything else. You’re it for me. Always have been.” Alex pulled their entwined hands to his chest.

Anthony knew of a hundred different reasons to tell Alex off. They were all wrong for each other. They could never be together, not really, not in this lifetime. It was all wrong.

But looking down at Alex’s broken body, the look of contentment on his face as he held Anthony’s hand, he knew he was wrong. The lives they were living were wrong. They were square pegs being forced through round holes; nothing was ever going to make them fit. But they found each other, and they fit.

“I love you, too.”

Suddenly, Anthony knew what to do with the money he had sitting in the bank. It would take a little while to pull everything out and get things together. He was going to need a nicer car...

“Alex, you gotta heal up and get better. You know why?” Anthony leaned in, laying his chin on the bed rail.

“Why?” Alex whispered conspiratorially.

“Because as soon as you’re better, we’re leaving. Out of here without a trace. I mean it. You want to disappear with me?” They didn’t fit this life, so they’d build a new one. Together.

“Yes.”

They were going to have to talk it over again once Alex was sober, but Anthony knew he’d agree. They’d pack up their belongings and broken pieces and leave everything else in the rearview.


End file.
